Chapter 14: We Hold A Moonlit Séance

The first thing Percy did once he got us all untied was fire up the barbecue. I was just thinking stable-cleaning must have worked up a real appetite, when he chucked Geryon's burgers straight into the flames and offered up a thank-you to Artemis and Apollo.

I decided not to mention that the patties were from Apollo's own cows.

Eurytion stayed at his picnic table, observing us with an inscrutable expression. Grover and Nico were all for giving him a taste of his own medicine, but I held them back. It wasn't Eurytion's fault he'd been stuck under Geryon's thumb for so long. Besides, he'd stood up to his boss in the end. Maybe a little late, but still.

'How long will it take Geryon to re-form?' Percy asked.

Eurytion considered this. 'A hundred years? He's not one of those fast re-formers, thank the gods.'

How long must Eurytion have worked for Geryon to know this? I got my answer a moment later when he explained that he'd taken up his dad on an offer of immortality and ended up with this deal ever since.

'Worst mistake I ever made,' he admitted.

Percy caught my eye. For some reason, this made me recall how close I'd come last year to accepting my own offer of immortality by joining the Hunters—although I would still have been mortal in combat, like Bianca had been. Nico scowled. I guess he was thinking about that, too. Eternal maidenhood had a steep price: no fraternising with boys. There was no such thing as a perfect offer.

That reminded me of something else.

'Your boss said that somebody paid for our safe passage. Who?'

'Maybe he was just saying that to fool you,' Eurytion said.

It didn't sound like it to me, but it was clear Eurytion hadn't a clue what Geryon had meant.

'What about the Titans?' Percy asked. 'Did you Iris-message them about Nico yet?'

Eurytion shook his head. 'Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don't know anything about him.'

Percy turned to Nico with relief. 'You could stay here until we're done with our quest. It would be safe.'

Nico glared at him. 'Safe? What do you care if I'm safe?' His lower lip trembled. 'You—you got my sister killed!'

'Nico, that wasn't Percy's fault,' I said. 'And Geryon wasn't lying about Kronos wanting to capture you.' Did he know how great his danger was? 'If he knew who you were, he'd do anything to get you on his side.'

Nico's lower lip stuck out in a pout. 'I'm not on anyone's side. And I'm not afraid.'

If he were my little brother, I'd want him to be safe. 'You should be. Your sister—'

Nico rounded on me before I could tell him how Bianca would have felt. 'If you cared for my sister, you'd help me bring her back!'

I swallowed hard. The nugget of guilt that I could never really dissolve lodged uncomfortably in my throat.

Nico wouldn't be dissuaded. How could we persuade a bratty ten-year-old (or maybe he was eleven now) that we had his best interests at heart? I felt a twinge of sympathy for Chiron, for my dad, for everyone who'd ever tried to keep me safe as a kid.

Then Percy suggested, 'Let's ask Bianca.'

'I've tried! She won't answer,' Nico said.

'Try again. I've got a feeling she'll answer, with me here,' Percy said.

Tyson sidled closer to me. 'Bianca is Percy's friend?'

'Nico's sister,' I said. 'She … died, last year.'

'Percy wants to talk to a ghost?'

'Um …'

I realised this was exactly Percy's plan. And it could be disastrous. Summoning spirits was a risky business. It was too easy to invoke the wrong one. We already knew the ghost of Minos—or someone masquerading as him—was out there, haunting the Labyrinth and doling out bad advice.

You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand.

'Percy, I don't think this is a good idea.'

Nico looked at his hands as though wondering if they held enough power. 'All right, I'll try.'

The full moon glared down at us as we gathered around a septic tank pit to conduct the séance. I could've sworn it had only been a sliver when we'd started on our quest. Nico poured root beer and charred barbecue meat into the pit. He began to recite an ancient Greek chant. Where had he picked that up? Maybe it was natural to children of Hades, the way Percy could summon water and Luke could pick locks without even trying.

The third line of my prophecy kept ringing in my ears. This wasn't a good time to call on ghosts, friendly or not. I was sure of it.

Nico kept chanting. Deprived of the sun's heat, the night air was freezing. Or maybe it was the mist that swirled up in front of the septic tank, distorting the garish smiley face painted on it. Spirits rose from the ground, congregating at the edge of the pit. Hunger crawled off them, so intense that I didn't think our burnt barbecue could possibly satiate them. These weren't like the spirits I'd seen before in Asphodel, or even the Fields of Punishment. They were worse. They wanted something from us, yearned for it.

'Stop him!' Nico cried, pointing at one spirit who had crouched over the pit. 'Only Bianca may drink!'

His warning came too late. The ghost lapped up the root beer like a dog. Percy raised his sword, which scared the other spirits away. They drew back into a formless huddle against the septic tank.

The spirit who had already drunk expelled a satisfied, ahhh, like in those Coke ads after the actor takes their first sip. The liquid dribbled down his chin, then around the contours of a body, inking in his shape.

A thin torso cloaked in bright, white robes. A cruel, pointed beard. A thin crown that glittered gold under the moonlight. That was the only part of him that wasn't shimmery and translucent.

I drew back instinctively. This was the man who had commissioned his Labyrinth and thrown countless Athenians inside to die. By all accounts, he'd also imprisoned his inventor when his devious plans for the maze had backfired.

This was a man who had condemned his deformed son and locked his seven-year-old daughter in a barn because they embarrassed him.

King Mino's eyes still gleamed with thousands of years of unexecuted vengeance.

Nico stopped his chanting to scold Minos, who didn't look at all apologetic as he surveyed us with his malevolent glare. The circle of spirits glowed with restless energy. Nico returned quickly to his ritual.

'Yes, master, you keep chanting,' Minos said with a smirk. The word master dripped with irony. 'I've only come to protect you from these liars who would deceive you.'

Even with Nico's chanting, the spirits' restlessness intensified. They were prowling the pit again. I got the feeling Minos was stirring them up somehow.

Minos sneered at Percy. 'Do you really believe Daedalus will help you? Daedalus cares nothing about you half-bloods. You can't trust him.'

As if Minos would know. He'd mistreated the brilliant inventor for years.

'He is old beyond counting,' Minos continued, 'and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods.'

I didn't know what truth there was to this slander. Chiron had said that there were various rumours about Daedalus, many disturbing. Some even claimed he had murdered Minos himself. But there was always malicious gossip about geniuses. Wisdom attracts aspersion, my mother would have said.

'Who did he kill?' Percy asked.

Minos refused to answer the question, turning instead to pander to Nico. 'Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. I will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others.'

Oh, it's treacherous … and I've helped it along.

'The others,' I breathed. 'You mean … Chris Rodriguez? That was you?'

I thought again of Luke, still wandering in the maze. I knew now who he had met last night.

'The maze is my property, not Daedalus's,' Minos growled. 'Those who intrude deserve madness!'

Nico waved his hand impatiently to dispel him. 'I want to see my sister!'

I no longer cared about speaking with Bianca. I was more concerned about what Minos had said. We'd thought it was the maze itself that toyed with our minds, but had it been Minos's work all along? How long had he been hiding in it, twisting the thoughts of its wanderers?

With a final warning to Nico, Minos vanished. The other spirits surged in to take his place. Percy and I brandished our blades and they fell back, muttering unhappily.

'Bianca, appear!' Nico sounded desperate now. The pace of his chanting accelerated.

'Any time now would be good,' Grover said. He was hiding behind Tyson, well out of reach of the clamouring spirits. Tyson had his hands clamped over his eye, too terrified to watch.

The light started out as a speck among the foliage of the trees. It grew brighter and brighter, until it outshone even the moon. I didn't need to be told that it was her, the one we were waiting for. Percy hesitated as she floated down to us, then lowered his sword.

Bianca knelt at the edge of the pit, just as Minos had, and scooped root beer from the ground. She materialised from the head down, becoming a serene, ghostly girl.

Her form, though still translucent, was more solid than Minos's. Maybe it was because she was a daughter of Hades, or maybe because we'd set out to summon her. I could see the pale colours of her knitted cap, the faded blue of her jeans, and the silver ski jacket—the same attire Zoë Nightshade and the Hunters had worn when they'd rescued us at Westover Hall. The faint outline of a bow shimmered against her back. I'd heard that Bianca had joined the Hunters before she'd died, but I'd never really internalised that fact until now. She looked different to how I remembered her, standing straighter, more confident. The ethereal glow around her seemed to be more than just the ghost light.

Then again, I'd barely known her for half an hour. It just felt like I did because I'd been responsible for what happened to her.

'Bianca … I'm so sorry,' Percy said.

Bianca shook her head. 'You have nothing to apologise for, Percy. I made my own choice. I don't regret it.'

I wanted to apologise as well for the part I'd played in the quest that had led to her death, but my voice stuck in my throat. She sounded so calm, so accepting of the consequences of her choices.

Would I have the same courage when it came to my choices?

Nico only just seemed to realise that Bianca was really and truly present. He staggered towards her, calling her name.

'Hello, Nico.' Maybe it was just me, but Bianca didn't sound too joyful about their reunion. 'You've got so tall.'

'Why didn't you answer me sooner? I've been trying for months!'

Bianca cast her eyes downwards. 'I was hoping you'd give up.'

'Give up? How can you say that? I'm trying to save you!'

Her ghostly hand trembled. 'You can't, Nico. Don't do this. Percy is right.'

'No! He let you die!' Nico's eyes grew wide and panicked. 'He's not your friend.'

Bianca sighed. I could tell she'd been trying to avoid this conversation. 'You must listen to me.' She waited until Nico stopped protesting. He stared at her with his lower lip trembling. 'Holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw.'

I'd had this conversation before with Percy. Every hero had a fatal flaw, one that could easily lead to your downfall if you didn't know what it was. Mine was hubris—a deadly pride that left unchecked, could lead to some really bad decisions.

Like believing I could actually conquer an impossible maze.

I shivered. Bianca's warning was harsh, but necessary. I'd seen the way Nico had glared at Percy. Holding grudges … it sounded a lot like Minos and his vengeful attitude. The way he'd punished Daedalus, demanded tributes from the Athenians …

Minos was a demigod son of the Big Three, too. Was that why he'd sought Nico out? Did he sense in him a kindred spirit?

Nico's face got redder and redder as Bianca explained things to him. When he heard that she'd been guiding Percy, he just about exploded. 'Why are you helping him and not me? It's not fair!'

'You are close to the truth now,' Bianca said gently. 'It's not Percy you're mad at, Nico. It's me.'

Something tightened in my chest. Nico's protests struck a chord. For years I'd clung to my fury with my dad for abandoning me. It had been easier than exposing the hurt that lay underneath its protective scab.

How many of us were like that, hiding our fear and grief with anger?

I thought of Luke's expression in San Francisco, after I'd refused to go with him. He'd returned to Kronos in the end. Was it his anger that Kronos had manipulated in order to entice Luke to him?

'You must overcome the anger,' Bianca urged Nico. 'And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom.'

'She's right,' I said. 'Kronos is rising, Nico. He'll twist anyone he can to his cause.'

'I don't care about Kronos! I just want my sister back!'

Bianca tried to touch him, to soften the blow of her words, but her hand misted up inches from Nico's face. 'You can't have that, Nico.'

Nico stamped his foot. 'I'm the son of Hades! I can!'

'Don't try. If you love me, don't …' Her eyes widened. She cast a look over her shoulder. The other spirits shifted uncomfortably, as if they, too, sensed something else there.

'Tartarus stirs,' Bianca whispered. 'Your power draws the attention of Kronos.'

The spirits chittered in alarm. Bianca's form flickered. 'The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain.'

'Wait, please—'

But Bianca said her farewells and the ghosts sank into the ground. Nico fell to his knees. I could see why Bianca hadn't wanted to show up when he'd tried to summon her on his own. Losing her again seemed to have put him into a catatonic state. Eurytion had to carry him back into the ranch house.

We should have headed back out on our quest, but no one wanted to leave Nico when he was so cut up. Eurytion offered us the living room to camp out in for the night.

The living room was spacious, with three leather couches and an armchair. We tried to get Nico settled on one of them, but he just curled up in a corner and refused to come near the rest of us. In the end, Tyson, Percy, and Grover each crashed on a couch, leaving me with the armchair. It had antlers sticking up over the back. I hoped the leather wasn't actually made of deerskin.

It was probably the most comfortable night we'd get for a while, but I had a hard time sleeping. I sat there listening to the boys' snores rumble around the room like an erratic orchestra. A loud sniff, quickly muffled up, punctuated the rhythm of the snoring. I glanced over to Nico's corner. He was very still, but I suspected he wasn't asleep.

'Nico?'

Silence, like he was holding his breath. Then another muffled sniff burst forth.

I got up and padded over to him.

'Nico, are you okay?'

'Go away.'

I hesitated. Maybe it was because he looked incredibly lost and forlorn again. Or maybe it was because I still felt responsible for Bianca. Nico no longer had a sister. I was compelled to do something to make up for that loss.

Except I didn't really know how to be a big sister.

Ironically, I found myself wondering what Luke would have done.

There was a thick, fuzzy robe lying across the arm of Grover's couch. I picked it up and carried it over to Nico. Gently, I draped it over him.

Nico looked up. His face was tear-streaked, with a bit of dirt from the pit smeared across his forehead. We stared at each other for a while, then he nodded and pulled Geryon's robe tightly around him.

I left him to grieve in private.

Percy tossed on his couch and muttered, 'Ariadne's string.' I crept closer, listening carefully—sometimes you could tell what Percy was dreaming about from the stuff he said in his sleep—but Percy just groaned and made some unintelligible noises.

'Annabeth?'

I started at the sound of Grover's voice. My face was hot as I stumbled back from Percy.

'I was just—he was talking about—'

Grover wasn't really listening. 'Do you think the animals will be all right?' he asked.

It took me a while to work out what he meant. 'You mean the ones on the ranch? I guess so … now that Geryon's gone. Eurytion can't be as bad.'

Grover sighed and drew his hooves up onto the couch. 'I should have done more for them. What will Pan think of me?'

'He'll think you're the brave satyr who never gave up on finding him,' I said firmly.

'Do you really think he's in the Labyrinth?'

'I don't know.'

'What if he's not? When we were down there, I kept hearing this voice telling me my search was useless, and—'

'Grover, you can't think that way. You heard Minos—he's been hanging around in the maze, driving people crazy. You can't listen to him. You've got to believe in yourself. You heard Pan.'

'I did …'

'He's waiting for you. You're going to find him. I'm sure of it.'

Grover sniffed.

'Look, why don't you …' My eyes fell on an old-fashioned television. 'Try and relax. Put on the TV or something.'

Grover found Geryon's remote. The old TV flickered to life. Grover channel-surfed until he found a programme on dying forests and endangered wildlife in the Pacific Northwest.

'We really need him, Annabeth,' Grover said softly. 'I have to find him before it's too late.'

The camera zoomed out on a massive mountain. We sat in silence, listening to the voice-over talk about the geology of Mount St Helens, with its unique glacial crater, and the importance of conserving the volcano. Eventually, the sound of the Nature Channel lulled me to sleep.

I dreamt I was back on the storm-tossed cliff outside the palace of Crete. A curly-haired boy was next to me, following me down the path towards the Labyrinth. He wasn't much older than I was, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He wore gilded sandals, and a long, bronze sword hung from his belt. The clasp on his cloak shimmered in the moonlight. It was shaped like a seashell, with ridges and bumps that rippled like waves.

'Where are we going, Princess?'

'Shh,' I said. 'You'll see.'

We came up to the heavy, wrought-iron doors that marked the entrance to the Labyrinth. A pair of armed guards slumbered against them. An empty wine bottle lay at their feet.

'Is this—this is it, then?' said the boy.

'This is it,' I confirmed.

He laughed nervously. 'So … any tips for tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow?' I shook my head. 'No—I brought you here because we're going in.'

'What, now?'

'Yes, Theseus,' I said. 'You asked for my help—but I need yours, too.'

The doors were bolted shut, but I touched a point above the bars and drew a triangle with my finger. As soon as I made the last line, the triangle glowed blue, forming a Greek Delta in the metal.

'Touch it,' I told Theseus.

He did as I said. The moment his fingers pressed against the blue Delta, the deadbolts on the door slid open.

'It knows you now,' I said.

Theseus looked alarmed. 'You act like it's alive.'

'You should treat it like it is.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out a palm-sized compass. It was the same one that Daedalus had pressed into Ariadne's hand the night the Labyrinth had been completed. Wrapped around it were fine threads so thin they were like fibres of light. I placed it in Theseus's hand and lined up the north point with the now-fading blue Delta on the door. The end of the thread snaked out to connect the compass to the door.

'Take this,' I said. 'I've set one end to the exit.'

'A string.' Theseus's eyes gleamed in the moonlight. They were glassy green, like the sea. 'So we can find our way back.'

I nodded. 'Exactly. Now come.' I held out my hand. He took it. His palm was cold and clammy.

'You sure you know what you're doing?'

In response, I took the first step into the Labyrinth. It smelt of wet stone, with a hint of rust. 'I—I have not come for some years. My father has prevented me. But I think I remember the way. And he promised I'd have this chance.'

'He?'

'If we get separated, use the string.'

'What about the monster?'

I met his eyes. 'My brother's name is Asterion,' I said quietly. 'And we're going to save him.'

The maze was darker than I remembered, and less familiar, like a pet that had turned savage. The walls were so high, the moonlight barely penetrated the corridor. The compass, with the ball of string wrapped around it, was the only light we had. The deeper in we went, the darker it got, until I could no longer see the night sky at all.

We came to a fork in the path.

'Which way?' Theseus asked.

I turned to him. He wasn't Theseus any more, but Janus, his two faces pointing to the different tunnels. The left face had a shock of sandy hair over it, while the right had messy black hair sticking up in the back. A streak of grey threaded through both sides, meeting in the middle.

One face was Luke's. The other was Percy's.

'Choose, Annabeth,' they said in unison. 'Which will it be?'

I backed away, horrified. The Luke-and-Percy Janus advanced.

'The child of Athena must make her final stand,' Percy said.

'Destroy with a final breath,' Luke said.

'No—please—'

There was a bright flash of light. Hera materialised between me and this horrific version of Janus.

'It is not Annabeth's time,' she told him sternly. To my relief, Janus's face went back to normal. He huffed and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

'Queen Hera,' I gasped.

'You will have to make that choice, you know,' she said. 'But for now, you need to … wake up!'

And she leaned in close and pushed me back to consciousness.

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A/N: I know, I know, I haven't replied to comments at all this week. I'm horrible. But I am grateful to you guys—Hello, Thunderwolf7226, JustADerangedFanGirl, and randomstories7777 for faithfully stopping by, and I hope this chapter is making up for my silence on the review replies. Busy as I am, I will not leave you hanging chapter-wise!